


Through Time and Space: Season 3

by goingtothetardis



Series: Through Time and Space [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Confrontation, Doctor Martha Jones, Episode: 2006 Xmas The Runaway Bride, Episode: s03e01 Smith and Jones, Episode: s03e04 Daleks in Manhattan, Episode: s03e05 Evolution of the Daleks, Episode: s03e06 The Lazarus Experiment, F/M, Grief, Introspection, Jealousy, Martha doctors the Doctor, Martha/Tish Conversation, Mentions of loss, Missing Scene, POV Martha Jones, Post-Doomsday Angst, Post-Episode: s03e02 The Shakespeare Code, Post-Episode: s03e03 Gridlock, Post-Episode: s03e07 42, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Talk of Suicide, Ten/Rose implied, Unrequited Crush, girl talk, martha pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 02:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets through all of Season 3 of Doctor Who/RTD-era Who.Not a season rewrite.





	1. The Runaway Bride

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm back with Season 3 of this series! A few notes before I get started. ;)
> 
> I have tagged this fic as Ten/Rose, but that is only because Rose's loss is felt acutely during this season, and I will likely visit what happened in moments of introspection and/or conversation. That and I am 10000000% a Ten/Rose shipper, and despite her not being there physically, her presence is still there. 
> 
> I do plan to focus primarily on the actual season, however, especially with Martha and her life on the TARDIS, so don't worry. It's not all going to be angsty, grieving Ten. The fic tags will be updated accordingly. 
> 
> Hopefully you'll enjoy this part of this series! I'm excited to watch Season 3 again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during 'The Runaway Bride.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice and angsty for Doomsday Month. I've had this bouncing around my mind for a few days, and I finally decided to watch the episode and write it down. I'm sorry for the angst. :( 
> 
> Unbeta'd, unless you count Jeeno2 yelling at me as a beta. ;)

_Torchwood._

_Of course_ , it’s bloody Torchwood. It’s all he needs to know, really, to know that whatever is going on with Donna is not good. 

Not good at all.

He returns the phone to its owner and leans back against the bar with a sigh, absently looking out at the dance floor, wishing desperately he could be anywhere but here. 

Anywhere but being surrounded by happy, dancing people. 

A flash of blond hair catches his eye, and his hearts skip a beat before he realizes it’s not Rose. That split second of euphoria is instantly replaced with a deep ache that numbs his entire body.

As he watches the couple dance, he’s hit with vivid flashbacks of holding Rose after Cassandra had left her mind for the final time on New Earth, and he hates himself for not being strong enough to resist the fleeting images.

Rose had collapsed in his arms, but the look she’d given him as he’d helped her upright – the dazed smile and bright, shining eyes – that image of her is forever seared into his memories. She’d been breathtaking that day, full of joy and excitement for their new adventure together. She’d been breathtaking _everyday_ , really. Who is he kidding? 

His stomach churns, bile threatening to rise to the surface, and his throat aches with the ragged emotions he’s trying so hard to suppress. He rips his gaze away and swallows heavily, forcing down the rage and grief. Even his fingers twitch at his side with the _need_ to hold her hand, to pull her close and spin her around in dance. 

The loss of her, of Rose, hits him deeply in this moment. For so long after the battle at Canary Wharf, he’d been feverish trying to find a way back to her, devoting long hours, days, and months find a way to breach the void. In the end, his efforts had been futile, and he’d run out of time to say… 

In the aftermath of their inadequate goodbye, Donna’s unexpected appearance on the TARDIS had provided a satisfactory distraction, and now he returns to that mystery, forcefully shoving back the thoughts of Rose and everything he’d lost into a compact box in a dark corner of his mind. 

For now, that is. 

His gaze focuses on the videographer and the beginning of an idea forms in his mind. Perhaps if he could _see_ what happened… The Doctor grabs hold of this distraction and pushes away from the bar. 

Time to solve the mystery of Donna Noble.


	2. Smith and Jones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during 'Smith and Jones.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after an extended break, I've returned to this series! I'm determined to finish Season 3 this year (it's one of my 2018 writing goals), and I'm getting back to it with an introspective moment in Smith and Jones. 
> 
> I've been considering this episode for quite some time and really had a hard time deciding what to write. In the end, I decided to return to Ten's mind and write his thoughts as he considers asking Martha along for a ride. I think it's an important moment we didn't get to see, and it leads into the moment he lands in the alleyway to 'rescue' her from the party. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! As mentioned previously, I won't focus so heavily on Ten/Rose in the future, but I feel like it's an important thought process to work through in this chapter.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

The Doctor waves goodbye at Martha before striding the last few steps to the TARDIS. He opens the door and steps inside, trailing his fingers on the railing as he walks to the console, welcoming the soothing presence of his ship in his mind. It’s always comforting after an abrupt and unexpected separation. 

His investigation of the plasma coils had led to a rather unexpected adventure, and  _ of course _ it’d been in London, the city he really had no desire to visit  _ again _ so soon after his… losses. 

Meeting Martha had only added salt to his wounds, as she too had been directly affected by the events at Canary Wharf. He vaguely remembers the girl she’d mentioned, her cousin Adeola, and now that he thinks about it, the resemblance is striking. 

The Doctor shakes his head, trying to rid his mind of things that pulls the memory of Rose to the forefront – an  _ impossible _ task, as she’s always there – and sends the TARDIS into the Vortex with practiced ease. 

He paces around the console for some time, listening to the steady thrum of the time rotor swish up and down. 

Perhaps… Perhaps it’s time to find a new travel companion. Not to replace Rose, mind, no one could ever do that. But maybe someone new to travel with would help distract him from constant wallowing in darkness and self-hatred. He’ll never rid himself of the latter habit, unfortunately, but his companions have always provided a fresh perspective of the universe and life, often pulling him from darkness and despair. 

The TARDIS provides an affirmative reaction in his mind, confirming his thoughts. The action cheers him slightly, and once again, he’s thankful for the unending presence of the life-long companionship of his ship. 

The Doctor focuses on Martha once more, considering the past day. She’d proven to be absolutely  _ brilliant _ in the moment of crisis, thinking quickly on her feet and acknowledging both her fear but also her desire to solve the mystery of the moment. She hadn’t backed down when faced with a deadly opposition, and she’d remained cool and collected in the face of great danger. In the end, she’d saved his life, and despite her oath as a doctor to do so, he rather feels he owes her a lot.

And it’s just for the one trip, mind. He’s not quite sure if he’s ready for another full-time passenger, and after Donna’s refusal, well– Best to move forward slowly. No need to rush it. 

He cringes after a moment, however, remembering one particular event of the day. The kiss. Or, rather, the genetic transfer. He fears Martha may have interpreted it quite differently and hopes she doesn’t have certain expectations of him if he asks her to come along for a trip. Hopefully he’ll remember to clear that miscommunication up if she addresses it. He sighs, cursing himself for providing a routine genetic transfer in a manner humans so frequently construct as sexual in nature.

The Doctor paces the console for several more minutes, analyzing his thoughts, until his decision to return for Martha has solidified in his mind. He’ll need a shower and a change first – lingering roentgen radiation particles still cling to his skin and itch quite a lot. 

With a definitive plan on his mind for the first time weeks, the Doctor nods to himself before turning toward the corridor and his room. 

Shower first, then Martha. 

  
  



	3. The Shakespeare Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after 'The Shakespeare Code.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot I could have done with this episode, but this one idea kept nagging me and would _not_ let me go. As a result, I ran with it, and I'm pleased with the results. I chose to focus on what happens when the Doctor and Martha return to the TARDIS after sorting the situation with Shakespeare and the Carionites. I imagine that Ten just took Martha to 1599 straight away after he invited her with a trip, so if you think about it, the situation on the moon plus everything with Shakespeare meant Martha got virtually no sleep beyond maybe an hour or two. And if that were me, I'd be about to drop dead from fatigue. So I watched the beginning of Gridlock to make sure I timed it right, and I wrote Martha asking the Doctor for a bit of time to clean up and nap before he takes her home. 
> 
> I think there's a lot for Martha to unpack from the first few days – very important things – and I tried to address them here in a way that's true to Martha. I hope you agree! Martha feels a lot of things, but she also doesn't back down and doesn't let the Doctor walk all over her. Hopefully this little missing scene/interlude will help set the stage for Martha's frame of mind for the rest of the season. 
> 
> Also, I'd like to thank SelenaTerna for helping me with this chapter. She gave me a lot of good insight to Martha and helped make this chapter a lot better!!

The Doctor slams the door behind him, letting out a delighted laugh as the arrows thwack into the TARDIS. “Oi, watch my ship!” he yells at the guards outside as he runs up the ramp to the console. 

Martha laughs at his antics, then blinks as a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over her. Stumbling a few steps back, she falls onto the jumpseat, watching silently as the Doctor performs a complicated dance around the console to send the TARDIS away from 1599.

Despite her fatigue, a raw anxiety churns through Martha’s stomach, and she suddenly realizes the Doctor plans to take her home. She can’t go, not yet. This… adventuring… This spontaneous leap into the unknown intoxicates her, lures her into its grasp, and she’s not ready to step back into the predictable routine of daily life as a medical student. 

“Doctor,” Martha starts, wondering if she has the right to attempt to prolong her time on the TARDIS. “Do you have a toilet? I’d love to freshen up a bit, and I– I could do with a nap. Didn’t really sleep much the last few days.” She laughs, the sound awkward and hollow to her ears. 

The Doctor stops his busy movements and turns to face her, an expression of vague annoyance on his face. “Sleep? Oh, you humans, always interrupting the day with your need for sleep.”

The words slip from her mouth before she can stop them. “Surely this _Rose_ of yours needed sleep. Didn’t she have a room?” Martha’s eyes widen in surprise at the bitter edge to the words, but she stares stubbornly at the Doctor, refusing to back down. 

At her words, the Doctor’s eyes shutter instantly, and all trace of his previously jovial mood disappears from his face. “You’re not sleeping in her room.”

Martha rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say that. But I haven’t slept – _really_ slept – since before I met you, and I could use a wash.”

The Doctor’s rigid posture relaxes slightly, and he throws a false grin on his face that she sees right through. “Oh, right, well, I suppose you can have a kip in a guest room.” He briefly closes his eyes before focusing on her again. “Right, down the corridor, second right, three doors to your left, and it’ll be the door at the top of the stairs. Meet me back here when you’re ready.” He points toward the main corridor leaving the console room, then adds as an afterthought. “Take your time.”

With a sigh, Martha stands up and follows the Doctor’s pointing finger out of the console room. The organic coral of the console room continues down the corridor, and after taking the second right, she’s met with a dead end and a door. Looking around and trying to remember the Doctor’s complicated directions, Martha tries to find another path, but comes up short. With a shrug, she opens the door in front of her and finds herself in a small room that looks rather like a standard hotel room – nice, but impersonal and bland.

Martha blinks. The room is such a drastic change from the rest of the TARDIS that she looks out into the hall to make sure she’s still on the ship. A double bed covered in a gray duvet fills most of the room, but there’s also a small wardrobe, a bedside table with a lamp, a mini fridge stocked with a few sandwiches and drinks (curious, that), and an averaged sized ensuite in the corner. The walls look like, well, normal walls, with a piece of somewhat interesting art hanging above her bed. 

Whatever she’d expected, this is not it, but Martha’s too tired to complain. It has everything she needs for a kip and shower, and she’s grateful. 

Quickly leaving her dirty clothes in a pile on the floor – and oh, she dreads putting them on again – Martha walks naked to the ensuite and turns on the shower, stepping inside the moment the water hits the right temperature. 

It’s pure bliss, and for several minutes, she just stands under the water, letting it relax the tension in in her shoulders and rise the sweat and grime of time and space adventure from her body. For a while, her thoughts don’t focus on anything specific, but before too long, the events of the last few days solidify in the forefront of her mind. 

The moon. A blood sucking alien and the _Judoon platoon upon the moon._ Meeting the Doctor. Accepting an invitation for a trip on a _time and space ship._ Shakespeare! Flirting with the Bard himself. The sonnet. Running away from Queen Elizabeth the First. 

God, had the last few days all been a dream? She’s clearly delusional from fatigue.

Martha laughs to herself, and before she knows it, she’s leaning against the wall of the shower as tears – from hysterical laughter – stream down her face. With a shuddering breath, she pushes off the wall and raises her face to the shower spray, rinsing the tears away. 

And it’s absurd, really, because despite all the amazing wonders of the last few days, of all the mad and impossible things she’s seen, Martha still can’t erase the deep burn of jealousy toward this mystery Rose. 

The Doctor had been very clear about his invitation toward Martha. 

She’s not replacing Rose. And how could she? The Doctor doesn’t even see her – _Martha_ – right in front of his face. _“Rose'd know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing. Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow. ”_ His words had stung, all the more since they’d been sharing a bed. 

She’s along for one ride, and one ride only. 

The kiss in the hospital had meant nothing at all beyond a _genetic transfer._

Right. Okay. 

She understands, really, she does. She’d performed to the Doctor’s expectations on the moon and had been awarded accordingly. She knows nothing at all about him beyond a few physiological quirks, and it’s outrageous for her to expect anything more. 

But that kiss had been… _wow._

It’d sparked a deep desire for something _more,_ something years of diligent study and performing as a predictable daughter had masked. 

The Doctor plans to take her home tomorrow, and Martha doesn’t want to go. The very idea makes her chest feel as though it’s in a compressive vice. As she washes herself, she makes a decision.

She’ll ask the Doctor to stay, to continue traveling with him across the stars, if he doesn't offer her more. And even though it pains her to do so, she’ll try not to make a big deal about her _clearly_ unrequited feelings for the Doctor. For now, that is. Who knows what might happen once he gets to know her?

The thrill of the unknown and adventure speeds her heart more than her crush for the Doctor, and she’ll do her best to listen to that voice. It’s time to fight for something she well and truly wants.

After some sleep, that is.


	4. Gridlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately after 'Gridlock.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been saying that I'm going to stop bringing Rose up again, but to be honest, it just worked out this way for this chapter. Early in season 3, Rose is still very much _there_ despite her obvious absence, and I think this is one conversation that needed to happen. I really, really struggled with how to write a ficlet for this episode, and after much brainstorming with Chiaroscuroverse, Hellostarlight20, and SelenaTerna, this is the final result. Thanks so much to these three lovely ladies for the ideas!!
> 
> Writing the last few chapters has been helpful in working through some of the early s3 angst and tension between Martha and the Doctor. 
> 
> Thank you also to Hellostarlight for the read through and beta!
> 
> Next up: A new adventure in NYC.

Despite the Doctor’s annoyance at Martha, it’s oddly cathartic to tell her about his planet, about Gallifrey and the place he once called home. Boe’s final words had unsettled him in a way he still hasn’t been able to explain, and it’s as though Martha’s insistence that he open up about himself has given him the chance to convince himself that Boe had been wrong. 

_ There is no one else.  _

_ He is alone. _

After finishing his speech with a generic comment about the Time Lords in order to further appease Martha’s questions, they sit in silence for a few minutes. His body hums with the urge to run, to hop out of this chair and sprint back to the TARDIS to send them hurtling back into the Vortex, but he forces himself into stillness, attempting to allow Martha the time she needs to work out her frustrations with him. 

“Why did you lie to me?” Martha asks quietly, and he looks up to find her glaring at him with her arms crossed.

Another spark of irritation zings through his body. Why can’t she just leave it alone? “I told you,” he says, “it was too easy. Easier than facing the truth. And you’d never know the difference.”

He doesn’t break Martha’s gaze as she flinches, then sets her shoulders. “Rose knew, didn’t she?”

The Doctor clenches his jaw as his lips firm into a stiff line. “Martha,” he says, his voice low and full of warning. 

“No, I’m sorry, but who was she? You talk about her all the time, and I’m–” She stops suddenly and gapes at him a moment, her eyes widening in surprise, as if all the things she’d been holding in the last several days had suddenly spilled out of her mouth unchecked. 

He sighs, wishing he could just walk away from this encounter and take Martha home, but a little niggle in his mind suggests that if he answers her questions, she might leave it alone for good. He appreciates her search for knowledge, but not this line of questioning. “Yes,” he says, voice abrupt and hard, but he can’t help it. “She knew. I took her to watch the Earth explode on her first trip,  _ our first date _ . Told her what happened over chips. I was another man then, angry and full of rage. Rose made me better. She was everything to me.  _ Everything. _ ” He says the last word on a whisper, focusing his gaze on a dirty spot on the ground.

“Are you angry now?” Martha asks, persistent.

He says nothing, choosing instead to raise his eyes to Martha and allowing her to see the depth of his emotions, the  _ anger/grief/hurt/love/annoyance/rage/confusion _ he so easily hides from the rest of the universe. 

Martha gasps and immediately averts her gaze, fiddling instead with the zipper of her jacket. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. 

The Doctor nods stiffly, then stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “No more questions,” he says, directly telling Martha that he’s done talking. He turns and walks back to the TARDIS, leaving the door open behind him as he walks inside. 


	5. Daleks in Manhattan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during 'Daleks in Manhattan.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have a little missing scene between Martha and Tallulah. I really struggled with what to write for this episode, and I kept thinking about how they fell into conversation in Tallulah's dressing room. There are some similar themes in this dialogue to what we actually see in the conversation that follows the last line in this ficlet, but I felt that the conversations were different enough to justify what I wrote. I hope you guys enjoy this one!
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Martha watches as the Doctor retreats from Tallulah’s dressing room and listens to his plimsolls pat rhythmically down the corridor as he runs to the prop room. She stands awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, before turning to follow the Doctor, who’s once again run away from her without a second glance. 

“What’s your name?” Tallulah asks from her chair, eyeing her up and down with obvious curiosity.

Martha looks down the hallway once more, shrugs, then steps further inside the dressing room. “Martha. Martha Jones.” 

“Well, Martha Jones, welcome to the show.” Tallulah pauses as she touches up her lipstick. “Come in, don’t be shy.”

With a hesitant smile, Martha wanders over to the vanity and spends a few moments looking at the black and white pictures leaning against the mirror, before stepping back to sit on the couch. It’s all so glamorous, and she feels strangely out of place. 

Tallulah, however, thrives in this environment. Even with the mystery and loss of her missing boyfriend, the woman exudes a confidence about life Martha thinks comes from more than just being a performer. 

“So, how long have you been performing?” Martha asks, attempting to make friendly small talk in the moment of relative calm.

In the mirror, Tallulah meets her gaze. “Here, just about six months, but before that, wherever I could find work. I’ve always loved to sing and dance.” She nods to one of the pictures. “That’s the first show I was ever in. Almost made it to Broadway, but…” With a sigh, she applies another coat of mascara. “The Depression takes a lot away from good people.”

“I’m sorry,” Martha says, experiencing that uncomfortable churn in her stomach upon the repeated realization that her life of privilege has given her so much.  

“What can I do?” Tallulah responds with a shrug. “We just gotta keep on living.”

“Keep calm and carry on,” Martha says with a grin.

“Exactly.” The other woman nods in affirmation as she adjusts the costume crown on her head.

“And who’s that?” Martha asks, pointing at the other picture, assuming it’s likely the missing Laszlo. 

Tallulah’s face softens as she looks at the picture. “Laszlo.” She pauses a moment before continuing. “He'd wait for me after the show. Walk me home like I was a lady. He'd leave a flower for me on my dressing table. Every day, just a single rose bud."


	6. Evolution of the Daleks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately after 'Evolution of the Daleks'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I last updated this verse in February, which is ages ago, and I'm so sorry for taking so long. My muse got so blocked with this episode, however, and I could NOT figure out how to approach a topic to fit with this episode. Finally, after talking a bit with Meanwhileinpetesworld, I was able to finally work through the block and write something that I'm mostly happy with. Some of the inspiration for this chapter was sparked while reading Hellostarlight20's 'We Are Never Alone' verse, as at the beginning of it, there's a thought from Martha about the Doctor being suicidal. I got to thinking and realized he put himself in a position to get himself killed at least three times in this episode, and that's really NOT OKAY. He's completely unhinged when he sees the Daleks again, and Martha had NO IDEA why. If I were Martha, I would have been furious, because had he died, I would have been stuck in the 1930s in the Depression. 
> 
> So. I decided to write Martha confronting the Doctor about his actions. There's a bit of an introspective moment in the shower (again, lol), but then I wrote some dialogue between them. Martha's pretty no-nonsense, so hopefully I captured her reaction well. I'd love some feedback! I tried to write it so there will be a relatively smooth transition to 'The Lazarus Experiment' but some of the awkwardness that should ensue after a discussion like this might get forgotten.
> 
> Unbeta'd - I'm a bit nervous about this particular chapter, but to those giving this verse a chance, I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> P.S. There are definite undertones of some Ten/Rose in this chapter.

After following the Doctor inside, Martha quickly excuses herself and make her way to her room to wash away the grime and slime of the city’s sewers. She’s covered in a thick layer of sweat and other grunge she doesn’t want to think about after a few days of getting intimately acquainted with New York City’s darker side. 

As the hot water runs over her body, Martha allows the anger that’s been simmering through her veins for hours to break through the surface, and she pulls at her hair in agitation. 

_ God, _ this life traveling through time and space. Is this what it’s always like with the Doctor? He infuriates her to no end, but yet, there’s something about him that is so electrifying and compelling that she can’t bear the thought of letting him go. 

His last non committal response to her statement about there being someone for everyone had been the cherry on top to his erratic behavior over the past two days. He’s seemed slightly unhinged since the day she met him, really, but there’s something about the Daleks that had taken his reckless behavior to new extremes. 

Granted, she hasn’t traveled with him for long to understand and recognize every nuance about his aggravatingly closed off personality, but the moment he’d discovered the Daleks, his demeanor had completely changed. With the realization that she’d almost been left stranded in the Depression, Martha realizes she needs to confront the Doctor. 

Fueled with new fire, Martha turns off the shower and jumps out. Much to her surprise and relief, there’s a simple pair of sweatpants and a hoodie waiting for her on the bed. On the floor are a pair of flip-flops, and she wonders if the Doctor had snuck in while she’d been showering. No, he wouldn’t do that, she realizes (and hopes), but the appearance of the clothes remains a mystery as she dries off and pulls on the sweats. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Martha walks quickly out of her room and back toward the console room.

* * *

Much to Martha’s relief, the Doctor stands next to the console, peering at the monitor. She clears her throat and he shifts his body to face her, an eyebrow raising in curiosity when he finds her dressed in different clothes. 

“Doctor, we need to talk,” she announces without preamble.

His eyes narrow, and he looks at her with vague suspicion. “I thought I said we were done talking.”

Martha rolls her eyes. “About the Time Lords and Rose, yeah, but we need to talk about the last few days.”

His gaze shifts to the monitor before returning to hers, and he rubs the back of his neck. “What about?”

“About the fact that you almost got yourself killed  _ three _ times.  _ Three times,  _ Doctor! You almost stranded me in the  _ Depression _ in New York City! I was there as a single black woman with  _ nothing _ to my name except for the fact that I travel with an eccentric Time Lord with a time ship.” Martha crosses her arms across her chest and glares at him. “Once you realized it was those Daleks, you… It’s like you  _ wanted  _ to get yourself killed.”

The Doctor’s jaw tightens and twitches angrily under her accusing words. He says nothing, not denying what she’d said.

“I’m right, aren’t I? You wanted to get yourself killed. What is it about the Daleks that makes you suicidal?” She doesn’t bother filtering her words despite the tension she can feel radiating from the Doctor. 

He turns to her fully, now, his face a mask of fury. “Because they took  _ everything _ from me! My people, my family, the Time Lords. Everything. These particular Daleks,  _ the Cult of Skaro,” _ he spits the name angrily, “took away Rose. Time and time again  _ they _ win while everything I– while everything gets taken from me.” 

Martha stares on in shock and horror while the Doctor turns and grips tightly to the edge of the console, breathing heavily. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” She’s still furious with him, but his rage toward the Daleks is more understandable, now.

“I didn’t tell you,” the Doctor says, still holding onto the console. “So how would you have known?” 

Martha shrugs helplessly and moves to slump against the jump seat. She takes a breath. “It still doesn’t… It still doesn’t excuse your behavior. It’s like you didn’t even care if you left me behind. What about your ship?”

He’s silent for a long moment. “She’d die, eventually, forgotten in time. And you, Martha Jones, you’d have been brilliant. ”

Martha laughs, the sound joyless and slightly strained. “Right, just like that, then? You’re done with me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Picking at a string on her sweatshirt, she rolls her eyes. “Not in those words, no, but I heard it. Look, Doctor, if I’m going to travel with you, I think… Well…”

“You think I should be a bit more responsible, hmm? Care a little more about your well-being? And mine,” he adds as an afterthought. 

“Well, yeah. I do think that. You’re the only one who knows how to pilot this ship, after all.” She stands up and joins him at the console, careful to give him a healthy amount of space between them. “If you go and get yourself killed, I’m stuck wherever we are. Forever. My family doesn’t even know I’m here with you!”

The Doctor’s face shutters briefly, and  _ once again, _ he gets the look he gets when thinking of Rose. He’d flashed it earlier before entering the TARDIS. The look disappears within moments, and he sighs deeply, running his hands down his face. 

“I’m so tired of them taking everything away from me, Martha. I thought maybe it would be easier if they just finished the job and took me, too. I was careless and didn’t think about what my actions would do to you.” He’s quiet a long moment, but Martha bites her tongue to keep from interrupting. “I’m sorry.”

Martha nods and steps closer, hesitantly placing a hand over his and squeezing once before releasing. “You’re not alone. I know I’m not… well,  _ Rose,  _ but I’m here. Just please… Don’t do that again.” She realizes this is the Doctor she’s talking to and that his nature is hard wired to save the day no matter what the cost, so she revises her words. “At least  _ try  _ not to.”

She grins, trying to lighten the mood, and a corner of the Doctor’s mouth lifts. She feels lighter, now, having confronted the Doctor about his actions, and hopes he’ll let her keep traveling for a little while longer. 

“Okay, I’m tired and hungry, so I’m going to find a kitchen and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The Doctor simply nods and lifts a hand to wave as she walks out of the console room. 

As Martha walks down the corridor, she hopes their next adventure will be a little less… chaotic. 


	7. The Lazarus Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during 'The Lazarus Experiment'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back again with another installment to this verse. I thought it would be nice to write a little moment between Martha and Tish before Martha and the Doctor start traveling again. As per usual, the "ficlet" length got a little out of hand, and 1,300+ words later, here we are. It's split up into a few different moments, because my muse decided to capture a bit of Francine's angst and anger toward the Doctor before they leave and go back to Martha's flat. 
> 
> In full disclosure, it's been ages since I've watched the last three eps of this season, and I hope that the Martha/Tish conversation holds up to canon. But since we have no indication that they never talked about these subjects, this is my take on a potential conversation. I think Tish became more open about things after Lazarus, and I think there's a need for Martha to share at least a hint of what she's doing. Francine isn't receptive to the Doctor, so I think it's easy to assume that Martha might trust Tish with such information. I hope you enjoy my take on this!
> 
> Thanks to SelenaTerna for the input and quick read through! (And for her undying enthusiasm for this project.)

After the Doctor makes sure Lazarus is dead for good, Martha and Tish follow him out of the church. 

“Want to come back to my flat when we’re done at the laboratories?” Martha asks Tish as they walk down the street. “I wanted to talk to you without mum around. We’ll take care of the cab.” 

Tish smirks, looking between Martha and the Doctor. “Yeah, sure. I can’t wait to hear all the details about your new bloke.”

Martha blushes but doesn’t do anything to deny Tish’s assumptions. They may not be true, but it’s nice to pretend for even a few minutes. She’ll clarify things back at her flat. 

As predicted, upon arrival back at the laboratories, their mum immediately pounces on them, frantic with worry. 

“Martha Jones, you don’t know what you’re doing with this man. He’s  _ dangerous,”  _ Francine cries out, desperately grabbing Martha around the shoulders and shaking her. 

“Mum, stop!” Martha pulls away in alarm and looks in confusion between Leo and Francine. “What’s going on?”

“Some bloke came over and told mum all about the Doctor. Said he was dangerous or something, but I dunno, he seems fine to me. Saved us all, didn’t he?” Leo remarks from behind Francine, sitting on the ground against the edge of the building. 

“Talked about me? Oh, well, I do get into a bit of trouble around here, but I thought I had someone erase all of that.” The Doctor’s brows furrows in confusion for a moment before he shrugs his shoulders. “Oh well, can’t stay hidden for too long. It  _ is _ me, afterall. Come on, Martha, ready to go?”

“What, you’re leaving already?” Francine grabs Martha’s hand and pulls her to her side. “You have to stay, Martha. I told you. He’s dangerous.” She glares daggers at the Doctor. 

“No, he’s  _ not,  _ mum. Let me go,” Martha demands, wondering what on earth has gotten into her mother. She twists out of Francine’s grasp and steps toward the Doctor. “I’ll call you soon, I promise.” 

“Martha!” Francine shouts. 

Martha ignores her mum and gives Tish a meaningful gaze as she follows the Doctor. “You coming?”

Tish looks between her siblings and Francine before throwing her hands up in the air and jogging after Martha. Francine’s angry shouts are still audible when the Doctor flags a cab at the end of the block, and they all clamber inside.

“That mother of yours, Martha,” he starts, tugging on his ear lobe. “Is she always this rude to your friends?”  

* * *

The cab drops them off in front of Martha’s flat, and they loiter awkwardly under the streetlight for a moment before she sends him away.

“Doctor, I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute. I need to talk to Tish,” Martha says.

The Doctor looks curiously between Martha and her sister before shrugging his shoulders. He spins on his plimsolls and saunters toward the door. 

Martha turns to face Tish, who holds her hand up in to stop her from talking as soon as she opens her mouth, and she snaps her mouth shut.

“Look, I know you’re gonna give me a lecture about me working for Lazarus, but I didn’t know, okay? They head hunted  _ me, _ and it was good money money. It was a dream job, really,” Tish explains. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Martha studies her sister and attempts to rein in the lecture waiting on the tip of her tongue. “They head hunted you?”

Tish mirrors Martha’s posture. “What, you think I’m not good enough to work for an organization like Lazarus Laboratories?”

Martha sighs. “No, it’s not that. It’s just... don’t you think it’s a bit strange? You’re only just out of uni.”

Glaring at Martha, Tish snaps back. “What, strange like  _ your _ job going to the moon, or whatever story you’re telling about that?”

Martha bites her tongue and considers Tish’s comeback. “Fair point. But didn’t you look into the company at all?”

Tish rolls her eyes. “Yes, Martha. Dad did, too, and it’s a perfectly credible company. I would’ve been stupid not to take the job. It’s not like anyone expected the CEO to turn into an actual monster.”

With a sigh, Martha decides not to press the matter further. It’s been a traumatic enough evening, and she’s tired. She hopes the Doctor hasn’t already left her behind. As she opens her mouth to ask about her mum’s reaction to the Doctor, Tish interrupts her thoughts.

“So this Doctor,” Tish says, “who is he, exactly?”

It’s obvious Tish doesn’t want to talk about her ruined job anymore, so Martha goes along with the change in subject.

“He’s not my bloke, that’s for sure. He’s a bit… hung up on his ex.” Martha sighs, swallowing the bitterness of the words. She’s loathe to admit this to her sister who’s never had a problem finding a date. Of course, when  _ she _ meets her perfect man, he’s still in love with someone else and is entirely emotionally unavailable. “We’re friends, is all.” 

“Not your bloke.  _ Riiiight. _ I see the way you look at him, though,” Tish says.

“Doesn’t mean  _ he’s _ interested,” Martha mumbles.

You act like you’ve known him for a while. Didn’t you just meet him last night?” Tish asks.

Martha fiddles with her earring. How much, exactly, should she tell Tish? She trusts her sister, but to anyone on the outside, the Doctor’s life is a bit fantastical. And what if he gets the date wrong and lands her a few weeks in the future? Perhaps she should tell someone, just in case.

“For you, yes, last night. Tish, will you promise not to tell mum?  _ Anyone? _ You have to promise, no matter  _ who _ asks you.”

As if understanding the note of seriousness in her tone, Tish’s expression sobers, and she eyes Martha, flicking her gaze between her and her flat. “Yeah, okay. I promise.”

Martha takes a deep breath. “He’s… an alien and travels through time and space. I’ve been traveling with him about a week, now.”

Tish stares at Martha as if she’s sprouted another head. Right. Well, she’d probably have done the same before the hospital got sent to the moon a week ago. 

“I… can’t tell you much more than that. At least right now. I’m not really sure if I’m allowed to tell anyone, actually. But just in case I go missing for a few weeks, just tell mum I’m… traveling.”

Tish continues to stare at Martha with an expression of utter disbelief, and Martha’s grows impatient.

“Look, you  _ saw _ the hospital return to the Earth. You  _ saw _ Lazarus turn into a monster. It’s not that much of a stretch to believe that aliens and time travel exist. I met the Doctor at the hospital, and he invited me to travel with him. Just a trip at first, but… I’ve seen so much, Tish.”

Finally, Tish blinks and nods. She gives Martha a faint smile. “Where’s my sister who’d never skip a day of school?  _ Especially _ for a bloke.”

Martha laughs, relieved her sister is at least attempting to believe her. “I found out there’s more to life than studying and exams,” she says, realizing the truth of her words. “There’s more to the universe than our life here on Earth.”

“So you’re traveling with him,” Tish says. “For how long?” 

Martha’s heart clenches in her chest. Part of her is scared the Doctor’s left her already. “I’m not sure, but as long as he’ll let me, I suppose.”

Tish nods again and shifts her gaze to Martha’s flat. “Well, you’d better get going before he gets too impatient. Can you call? I just… I’d like to know you’re safe.”

Martha smiles and steps forward to hug her sister goodbye. “Yeah, I can call. At least, I think I can. Be careful, okay?”

Tish hugs her back and squeezes her tight. “I will. You, too.”

“I’ll do my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already got some ideas in mind for the next installment, but I need to watch '42' again to really solidify an idea. It'll be a rough ride, that's for sure, as I'd like to focus on the fallout of what happens to the Doctor's mind. Stay tuned...


	8. 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after '42'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to get this particular chapter done. This was part of my original idea for '42' but I got intimidated by the whole concept of dealing with PTSD issues following the events of this episode. I always felt that there was a bit of time gap between this episode and the events following, because there's NO WAY the Doctor experienced this and just packed it all in a neat little box and moved on. NOPE. One of my favorite S3 rewrites deals with the fallout of this episode really well, and I've adapted some of those concepts as my own personal headcanon. 
> 
> Without Rose there, I'd like to think that Martha would stand up to the Doctor and try to help him through this time. He experienced a massive mental trauma, and it's not something that will be fixed overnight. I really hope I was able to sensitively address the issue in this chapter. We all know the Doctor, right? He's stubborn and tries to convince everyone that he's _fine_ , but really, HE IS NOT. And Martha knows that, of course, and she has a solid medical background to fall back on to help him. 
> 
> I didn't get into the nitty gritty of the recovery, because that's not my area of expertise, and I'll leave that to the experts. But hopefully you understand what I'm trying to do. He can't pack this up and move on; it's important that he face the demons and conquer them. DISCLAIMER: I am not an expert in PTSD and I may not be accurately representing the illness or any post-traumatic stress issues at all. Please realize this is fanfic and not a real life event, and if you feel the need to discuss any improper handling of issues discussed here, please find me on tumblr. 
> 
> I'd like to give a huge thanks to Hellostarlight20 for giving me the inspiration for this chapter. I struggled with the idea for ages, and after talking with her today, the words finally came.

Something, she’s not sure what, rouses Martha from a deep sleep. She sits up in bed and immediately pulls the blankets up to her chin.  _ God, _ it’s  _ freezing. _

Of course, after the burning heat of the sun earlier, it’s almost welcome. Almost. But it’s  _ really _ cold, and after ice skating on Kur-ha, she’d been fully recovered from the sweltering ship.

Martha closes her eyes to ward off those terrible memories and flops back to try to get some more sleep. After tossing and turning for several minutes, she sighs in defeat and decides to head to the galley to make some tea. 

Hissing in discomfort when her feet touch the cold floor, Martha first dashes into her closet to fetch a thick robe and a pair of fuzzy bedroom slippers. She then stops for a quick wee before shuffling out of her room, and she wishes she’d thought to grab a stocking cap and some gloves after discovering the rest of the ship is just cold as her bedroom. 

Just as Martha is about to reach the galley, a cry echoing down the corridor stops her in her tracks. It  _ has _ to be the Doctor. Looking around, she discovers a flickering light several doors down the corridor and breaks into a run.

“Doctor!” she calls out as soon as she throws the door open. 

Martha stops. It’s even  _ colder _ in this room, if that’s possible, and her breath comes out in icy puffs in front of her. She pulls her robe tighter around her and shivers. 

“Blimey, Doctor, is everything alright?” She looks around the room and realizes she’s in some sort of office, mostly likely the Doctor’s. A noise from a sofa on the other side of the room catches her attention, so she hurries over, hoping it’s him. 

_ “Get out! Get out of my head!”  _ The Doctor sits up with a violent lurch, and Martha gasps and jumps back at the expression of utter terror on his face. The Doctor pulls at his hair and screams, his eyes scrunched tight together, before falling back to the sofa and thrashing about.  _ “It burns! It’s burning me!” _

The sound reverberates deep in Martha’s bones, and she pauses for a moment before moving into action. It’s clear the Doctor is suffering from post-traumatic stress after the parasite infected his mind. Despite her schooling, she’s not specifically trained in treating such disorders, but right now, however, she’s the only one around to help him. 

“Doctor!” Martha calls out again, and she’s answered with a long, pain filled moan. “Doctor, it’s okay, you’re okay. We’re on the TARDIS, and you know she won’t let anything happen to you.” She rushes to his side and kneels down beside the sofa, still hesitant to cross any physical boundaries. 

A beat of silence passes before the Doctor resumes thrashing from side to side. Sweat beads at his forehead and spills down along his hairline. Martha throws a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out at the Doctor’s obvious pain and reaches out with her other hand for the Doctor’s hand. 

As soon as she touches him, he quiets, though his internal suffering is still evident. 

“Rose?” His eyes still bunched together, he calls out for his former companion. “Rose, Rose are you there?” The Doctor’s face contorts in agony as he grips her hand like he never wants to let go. 

Martha swallows, trying not to let old feelings of hurt cloud her judgement in this moment. “Doctor, it’s Martha,” she says softly. “Please open your eyes.”

The seconds tick by, and Martha holds her breath until finally, the Doctor opens his eyes and sags into the sofa as whatever nightmare holding him in place abates. 

“Martha?” His eyes scan her face, and he searches around her as though looking for someone else. 

“Yes, I’m right here, Doctor.” She squeezes his hand once more, and his gaze refocuses on her. 

Despite her layers, Martha shivers, and the Doctor’s eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“Are you cold?” he asks. 

“It’s freezing in here,” she says, “but doesn’t matter. I think the TARDIS made it cold for you.”

The Doctor squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. 

“Doctor, you’re not okay,” Martha says, cutting to the chase. “You need help.”

A dark shadow crosses over his face before he looks at her and cracks a wide grin, one so fake she can see right through it. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine,” he says.

Martha snorts. “No, you’re not, Doctor. You experienced a severe mental trauma today, and I won’t believe for a second that you’re fine. Don’t lie to me.” She sits on the edge of the sofa and glares at him.

The Doctor glares back with equal ferociousness. 

“You. Are. Not. Okay,” she repeats. 

“Martha, I’ll be in tip-top shape in a few hours if you’d let me finish my restorative sleep,” the Doctor explains in a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument. 

Except Martha is a doctor, and she knows when her patient is feeding her a line, so she considers how to address the situation. The last thing she wants to do is hurt the Doctor further, but he needs to face what happened head on if he’s going to get past this particular trauma. 

“What happened? You don’t have to go into detail, but I think facing some of what you experienced today will help get you past this. You can’t run from everything, Doctor. This is the Daleks all over again. You said you’d try. ”

The Doctor swallows heavily and pushes himself up into a sitting position. He looks at her, his eyes dark with rage and thinly contained fear. “I’ve run my whole life, Martha. What makes you think I’m going to stop now?” 

“Because if you don’t take care of yourself, if you don’t try to let me help you, I’m leaving. I’m done. I understand that you can’t prevent bad things from happening, and I’m not blaming you for any of it. It’s  _ not _ your fault, Doctor,” she says at his disbelieving snort. “I just think you need someone to travel with you to be your friend and to keep you in check. You care  _ so much _ about everyone else, and I think you forget it’s okay for someone – someone who isn’t Rose – to take care of you.”

At her words the Doctor slumps forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingers buried deep in his hair. Martha barely catches his nod of agreement. 

“Where do you want me to start?” he asks.

Martha thinks a moment, schools her expression into the face of Doctor Martha Jones, and turns to the Doctor. “Tell me more about the parasite and how you were able to keep it from infecting you like everyone else.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at goingtothetardis.tumblr.com!!


End file.
